Promise Bound
by Jaro-ship
Summary: *BP Spoilers* Keeping her promise to her mother Janine, Rose Hathaway finds herself back in school and her old life. But with Dimitri getting closer to the school every day, is two and half months too long to wait to leave? HIATUS
1. Prologue

**If you haven't finished Blood Promise, go find something else to read. I have a habit of reading books fast and retaining about 90% of the info, which is why I'm among the first to put stories out that are after the latest book. In this case, it's Blood Promise.**

**Usual disclaimers apply.**

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According to Lissa, with the agreements of Adrian, Eddie, and Christian, I could be compared to Bella Swan in the Twilight series. However, when they told me this, the first thing that I thought was how weird it was that Adrian, Eddie, and Christian had read enough of the series to be able to agree with Lissa and put in their own thoughts.

After listening to them, with Christian just piggy-backing on what they said during lunch the next day, I decided that Bella Swan (seriously? "Beautiful Swan"?) and I only had one thing in common - we were magnets for a lot of things.

Magnets for forbidden love.

Magnets for trouble.

Magnets for danger.

Magnets for reckless, stupid, rash behavior.

Magnets for injuries.

Magnets for the unnatural.

The earliest time I could think of that fit would be when Lissa and I ran away from St. Vladimir's Academy in the first place, back in our freshman year. Quickly followed by when the guardians Kirova dispatched to find us for two long years had succeeded, much to my displeasure.

Between trying to figure out spirit, the fifth, rare element that very little Moroi specialized in, my weird, psychic bond with Lissa, and my feelings for my mentor, Dimitri Belikov, whose sole purpose was to catch me up, the beginning of my senior year made my head hurt. Looking back, though, that was the easiest my life had been since freshman year.

The tug at my heart at the thought of the fallen Dimitri was more like a rough yank in which my heart was ripped out of my chest, thrown to the ground, and then stepped on. About a month after the ski trip during winter break and Mason's death at the hands of a group of Strigoi, something unusual, there had been a large attack at the academy. On a rescue mission that had been my idea, Dimitri had been caught off-guard in the one moment during the entire time he was carrying out the mission. Because my weird psychic bond Lissa allowed me to see ghosts, I had found out from the ghost version of Mason that Dimitri had turned Strigoi - they're considered the "bad vampires" of my world, so when I found out the news, I was absolutely crushed.

Strigoi are the "bad vampires" of my world, and the "good vampires" are Moroi. Strigoi are a bit like zombies - they're the living dead. They feed off the blood of humans, Moroi, and dhampirs, like me and my friend, Eddie Castile. They were created by two ways: the first was the Strigoi drinking all of the blood out if its victim, and then feeding their victim some of their own blood. This was how Dimitri was changed. The other way is specific to Moroi - when they fed on humans, they had to drain them, effectively killing the feeder. Their magic disappeared, and all Strigoi lost their souls. Moroi and dhampirs alike were taught from a very young age that if a person was turned Strigoi, the changed person was not the same person.

Moroi wielded magic, and they specialized in any one of the four elements: earth, air, fire, and water. My best friend Lissa Dragomir and our souvenir from the ski trip, Adrian Ivashkov, both specialized in a fifth, extremely rare element - spirit. Lissa could heal people (she brought me beck from the dead in a car crash that killed her parents and brother), Adrian could walk dreams, and both had superior control over compulsion, an ability that allowed whoever was using it to compel people to do whatever they wanted. All Moroi could use it, but it seemed to be stronger in spirit users.

The third race in our little secret world were dhampirs. I'm one of them, as is - correction, was - Dimitri. We're half vampire, half human, and act as the bodyguards of Moroi to prevent them from getting killed by Strigoi. We first showed up back when Moroi wielded magic in front of humans like it was no big deal and actually got together with them. Over the centuries, humans began to become afraid and wary of Moroi, and soon all three races were living in secret from humans. Up until just a month ago, I had believed that no human knew of our existence. I was wrong.

There were a select group of humans called Alchemists who knew about our kind and what we did. They knew different tactics that allowed them to help keep the Moroi community secret and worked for some higher-ups about whom I wasn't privy to know. I had met one in Russia in the beginning of my quest to find Dimitri and kill him, a promise we had both made back when were first falling in love. If one of us became Strigoi, the other would kill them. Hence why I dropped out of St. Vladimir's for five weeks to find Dimitri and kill him. After several tries and about a week and a half as a blood whore for Dimitri, I thought I had killed him on a bridge above the Ob River, right outside Novosibirsk. Again, I was wrong.

Turns out that I had only staked him in the chest, and not the heart. There were three ways to kill a Strigoi - decapitation, setting them on fire, and putting a silver, Moroi-magic-infused stake through their heart. If you hit them with a stake anywhere else, it wasn't lethal, but it definitely left a scar when it healed. The only way I knew Dimitri hadn't died, despite falling off a bridge a good hundred feet above the fast-moving river after being staked, was a package I got the day after I returned to St. Vladimir's. It had the stake I supposedly killed Dimitri with and a slightly cryptic note that let me know he was coming after me to kill me.

Not a great thought to have lurking in the back of your mind as you try to start going to school again for the last two and a half months.

So despite the claims of my four friends, Bella Swan and I were barely alike. Sure, we had fallen in love with someone we probably shouldn't have fallen in love with and were constantly having near-death experiences, but it was because we were magnets.

Which is why while I had promised several people that I would graduate and go to school for the next two and a half months, I felt like the magnet in me was just dragging Dimitri closer to me. He knew where to find me, and it wouldn't take long for him to show up and try to kill me here at the academy. And then, killing him was free game for anyone, though I don't think anyone besides me would kill him - I'd probably turn around and kill them myself. It was the only way I had found I could get closure from the whole ordeal.

The end of July seemed like the longest distance away from where I was standing. I was pretty sure Antarctica was closer to me than the end of July.

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	2. Chapter 1

**Usual disclaimers apply.**

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Two and a half months. 75 days. 4,500 hours. 270,000 minutes. 16,200,000 seconds.

It was a long time.

I wasn't sure that I could properly get over the shock of finding that I really hadn't killed Dimitri, prepare myself to finally kill him once and for all, plan how to tell Lissa that my - sorry, our - next we-might-get-ourselves-killed plan is breaking Victor Dashkov, our sworn enemy, out of jail, plan exactly just how we were going to break Victor out of jail, try to convince Christian that while taking a break from his relationship with Lissa is a good idea, he shouldn't wait too long, and try to get myself back into the normal swing of school and routine at the same time.

It hurt my head on an hourly basis when I tried to comprehend what I had to do.

It was one of those moments where I was doing exactly that when Christian and Eddie broke me out of my thoughts. Lissa and Adrian were off somewhere, and it was just the two of us at lunch.

"Rose," Eddie half-shouted, snapping his fingers in front of my face. "Earth to Rose?!"

"Would you keep your voice down? I don't need more of a reason for people to stare at me," I snapped, shoving his hand down to the table. I glared at two freshman who had pretty much stopped walking and were staring at me. They gave a little whimper before running off. Twice I had taken off from the academy. Twice I had come back. One time forcefully, one time willingly. I guess I _was _an oddity.

"Sorry, but you _were_ zoning out again." Eddie feigned emotional hurt by clutching at where his heart would be.

"I've got a lot on my mind," I said, not quite as defensively as I thought I'd come out as.

"Give her a break," Christian muttered. "I know what it's like the be the center of negative and curious attention. It's not fun."

"Fine," Eddie said, "Whatever."

Eddie dropped the subject and moved on to his excitement for me to be back in classes tomorrow. I was sure I was going to kill my fellow novices but I kept quiet. I hadn't told anybody besides Lissa just how many Strigoi I had killed and it was going to stay that way for as long as possible.

My attention came in and out; I nodded and agreed at the appropriate times and Christian and Eddie kept chattering animatedly about what it'd be like to see me in the hallway again after the past month. They sounded like eighth graders, getting excited about school starting so we could see each other again.

If Eddie and Christian noticed my lack of enthusiasm in the conversation, they didn't say anything. After I had finished eating, Eddie and Christian had moved onto some new topic. I was so out of it, I didn't even know what that conversation topic was. I just stood up, muttered a good-bye to the two of them, and left the cafeteria, glad for the cool May air. Honestly, I would have preferred the cold January air, but as long as it wasn't stifling hot, I would have to deal.

I hated that I was in my thoughts all of the time, in my own little bubble and oblivious to the world. And in a way, some small part of my brain realized I should soak up these days and moments in not so much as the pain and headaches but the fact that I could be this way. Come graduation, Lissa had to be on my mind nonstop. If she wasn't, I wasn't doing my job of being her guardian.

Playing devil's advocate, my bubble was comfortable. Even as recent as mid-March, I was much more extroverted - looking for an excuse to hang out with friends, cherishing the moments I was in the spotlight (for the most part), loving the feel of being around people. Somehow, with Dimitri's fall, he had brought out the introvert in me. Lissa had offered to sneak me into a party Eddie was holding the other night; despite my surprise at her wanting to party after the Avery incident, I had declined. _I needed to think about things _was my excuse.

I nearly stepped on the letters that were shoved under my door when I walked into my old dorm room. I had been able to get my old room and everything in it back. I was grateful for Alberta being able to do that. I only half minded that she'd even given back the things I had that reminded me of Dimitri. When I did kill him, the momentums would help remind me of the times when he was a dhampir.

The first letter, on the other hand, was from Strigoi Dimitri. This wasn't uncommon. He was taking his time coming to kill me, and he was letting me know in the form of letters. I knew where he was, or where he had been, by the postage. Most of the time it was Russian, but other times, I had to look up the postage and it would be from countries bordering Russia. Once I got Alaskan postage, and I was a little surprised by that. Alaska, though near Russia, was relatively far from Galina's estate near Novosibirsk. In one of his early letters, he had told me that he was planning his attack on me from Galina's estate, the place he had kept me captive and turned me into a personal blood whore for the last week or so I spent in Russia. I could only infer that he was calling that wretched building is home for all intents and purposes.

"My dearest Roza," the German-postage letter began, and sat down on the edge of my bed to read the two-page letter. I could hear the sarcastic, half meaning tone he'd adopted after being turned.

_You've been back for roughly two weeks. Using the common Americanism, a little bird told me that you were starting classes again, but it wouldn't be for quite some time. To anybody else in my position, this news would be shocking and upsetting. It would delay them from doing what they need to do. But honestly, I am glad and almost excited for you to train for another two months. Knowing the curriculum and what senior novices are put through, maybe the next time I see you, it'll be more of a fight. It was obvious you grew weak during the five weeks you spent in Russia. I'm near positive my mother's cooking would have put ten pounds on any human, and therefore having some kind of nutritional effect on you. Actually, I'm quite positive._

_Part of me wishes the attack on the academy never happened. When I've got nothing better to do, the careful planning among the better things to do, I sometimes wonder what kind of guardian you would have turned into had I been able to stay and do the extra trainings with you. You already are a very good soon-to-be guardian. I guess that makes my job a bit harder._

_The same bird from earlier also told me that Hathaway had temporarily taken my position, but Petrov would be taking my place in your extra practice sessions. How this works out is beyond me, and I don't particularly care to know the logistics of everything. Although Hathaway doing a training session with you would be quite amusing. They say that you normally go harder on those related to you or those you know well. That's why I always reiterate the lessons I taught you earlier in the school year. Especially the one about turning your back on your enemy. I'll never let you live that one down. Those "zen life lessons" you always accused me of never endlessly spouting are helpful now, aren't they? Too bad you won't be around long enough to tell your kids about them._

_I heard from the bird that you had, in fact, talked to Abe Lazar - pardon me, Ibrahim Mazur - after I specifically told you not to. I am disappointed in you. Everything I tell you, you treat it like you're still a teenager. I realize that you can't suddenly magically mature overnight, but if I recall correctly, we had made some progress on the maturity and respect for adults before my awakening. I repeat: I do not want you talking or interacting with your father. And don't call me biased because I don't like my own father. I know Ibrahim. He is trouble and will most likely somehow get you arrested or killed, both of which would set me back in my goal. Don't talk to him. Don't talk to him. Don't talk to him. Don't make me say it again._

_Hope your classes go well tomorrow. Give everyone my regards._

_Love, D._

I sighed, folded the letter, and stuck it in the drawer in my bedside table that held all of his letters. He always ended his letters with "Give everyone my regards. Love, D." It was never anything else, except for this time.

As I wondered who his informant was, I began to wonder how he knew my classes started tomorrow. Only my teachers, myself, the faculty, and my friends knew. My classmates knew I was starting classes soon. They just didn't know the specifics.

But, playing devil's advocate again, Dimitri always managed to guess a lot of things. In the twelve days I had been back, there had been ten letters. He obviously had a lot of free time to keep writing letters to his lover that he was planning on killing.

Turning to the second envelope, I saw Russian postage on the envelope and no return address. Dimitri's letters all the return address of St. Vladimir's so his letters were sure to get here. This one had my interest peaked as I opened the envelope.

Inside was a simple piece of loose-leaf notebook paper, instead of the usual dark, elegant stationary Dimitri used. More interested in the sender, my eyes skipped to the giant "S" at the bottom of the page. All thoughts of Dimitri out of my head, I wondered how Sydney could have gotten ahold of my address before realizing that her mysterious superiors probably were tracking me somehow and knew where I was all the time. Or they were certified stalkers and knew where I went to school. There were tons of academies around the world, and it amazed me that she even got the right dorm.

_Rose,_

_Word has been spreading that there is a secret informant for a high-ranking and well-known Strigoi. I don't know if your academy has kept it quiet or if it has gotten there yet. Montana's a pretty unvisited state if my American education is correct._

_I'm not sure if this Strigoi is your Strigoi, but I thought you'd like to know. For all your world knows, the informant could be a teacher, a classmate, a faculty member, somebody you wouldn't expect. Do what I do around you - be wary and slightly turned off by everything. When you do that, it allows you to have a clear head when analyzing something. If you're emotionally or psychologically attached to something, it makes it hard to think clearly about it from an objectionable viewpoint._

_Also, expect to see me soon. As luck would have it, I've been assigned to Rome, Italy, but they're sending me to your school for about two months for some reason. It's top secret, not to get cliched on you, so when I do find out what the reason is, I can't exactly tell you. Sorry. And I'll never say or admit it again, but I'm sort of looking forward to getting to know you a little better. Despite being unnatural, you seem like a cool person._

_May God bless you in your life,_

_Sydney_

The religious crap at the end slightly turned me off to Sydney's niceness. If she did want to get to know me better, we were definitely going to have a talk about where to draw the line on the religious stuff. Sydney's bible-loving approach on things didn't mix well with my own near-nonexistent beliefs.

I crumpled the letter up, tossed it at the wastebasket near my desk, missed by inches, and flopped back on the bed. It was quite comfortable, even compared to the bed in Galina's estate. That was always the reason St. Vladimir's would always have atleast one merit in my book - even if I only slept for two hours, I would always wake up refreshed.

Thinking about sleep only made me even more tired, so I eventually gave up thoughts on sleep and succumbed to it, happy that Adrian was too busy to walk my dreams.

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	3. Chapter 2

**Usual disclaimers apply.**

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I woke up to someone shaking my bed.

"Yeva, what are you-?" I shouted, bolting up right, pillows flying in different directions, due to my weird habit of sleeping with every pillow except for one on top of my face.

"Yeva?" Adrian asked, his hands on the edge of the bed. "What the hell is a 'Yeva'?"

"Dimitri's grandmother," I growled, and was about to throw my comforter back to get up when I stopped halfway. "What are you doing here? Isn't this against the rules?"

"Since when do you worry about the rules?" Adrian stood up straight.

"Since when do you sneak into innocent little girls' rooms?" I threw back.

"You're not innocent, nor are you a little girl. You're anything but," Adrian said, a devious glint in his eyes.

"If you're here to flirt, get out."

"Oh, so I'm guessing you don't want my essay, contract, and video on why I am the perfect post-Dimitri boyfriend for you. Fine then. I'll just be going. I'm sure Lissa will love my company so much more." Adrian patted his leather jacket, and started walking for the door. Forgetting what I had fallen asleep in, I flew out of my bed and pinned him against the back of the door. The only sound was the slight thump of my body pushing Adrian's the last half foot to the door.

He pushed me away slightly to turn around and face me. His eyes found my very visible cleavage in my revealing black lace cami top. I had found it the night before and decided to do some self-indulging for a night in preparation for today.

"Yeah, I have it," Adrian said after a few minutes of staring. Now that a part of me had moved on from Dimitri, it felt kind of good to have Adrian looking at me like that.

"Do you?" I asked, pressing into him even more. Our faces were barely an inch away.

"Mm-hmm," Adrian muttered. It was obvious that he was surprised by this interaction. When I had played on his emotions to get some cash before heading to Russia, it wasn't nearly as this intense.

"I'd like to see it," I said softly. I tilted my head a little bit.

"Here," Adrian said gruffly, roughly slipping a hand into his back pocket. He gave me the papers and a DVD in a slim, clear case. His messy handwriting was scrawled across the top in red Sharpie, titled "Vid 4 Rose".

"Thank you," I said, my lips practically touching his. "Now if you don't mind, I have to get ready for class." I lightly blew on his lips and backed up, spinning halfway to my wardrobe, making sure it was evident that my flimsy booty shorts (the kind that were so small, they barely made the cut for being called shorts) were very thin.

"I guess I'll see you, later, then, yeah, okay, going," Adrian said, taking lots of odd pauses, and opening the door and disappearing so fast, not even a second had passed. Satisfied, I grabbed some novice training clothes and headed for the bathroom.

I was locking the door to my room, notebook and planner in hand, when Eddie slid up to me.

"So today's the big day," Eddie said bluntly, leaning against the off-white wall, and arm resting above him on the wall.

"And?" I prompted, pocketing the key in my duffel bag, which slung over my shoulder. I started walking down the hallway to the stairs. Old, dark pink work-out pants that I had cut into knee-length shorts made a soft swish noise as I walked, my extremely expensive sneakers I had bought in Missoula before coming back making no sound as my feet stomped against the carpeted cement.

Eddie shrugged. "Conversation starter."

"And I'm a on conversation ender." I started descending the stairs two at a time, a feat I had accomplished since none of the buildings on any campus had an elevator and I had been going to the same school since birth.

"What's with the funk?" Eddie inquired, keeping up perfectly with me.

"Funk?" I echoed, waving at another novice as we passed by.

"Why are you being difficult?" Eddie repeated.

"Adrian woke me up in a rather annoying manner."

"Which means?"

"I woke up to him shaking my bed uncontrollably."

"Sounds like Adrian?"

"How?"

"Breaking the rules and pissing you off."

We were standing outside the gym at this point, me looking up at Eddie.

"Yeah, it does," I said, laughing. I crossed my arms over my chest, my notebook squashed in between my arms and chest.

"Well, I should probably go check out the breakfast scene," Eddie said awkwardly after a few seconds of weird silence.

"And I've got to go take notes on Alberta's teachings so I can stall Dimitri when I see him next time," I said, waving the black notebook after unfolding my arms. The pencil was tucked inside the wire spirals. Eddie let out a nervous laugh. He, Lissa, Christian, and Adrian all knew about the note and stake Dimitri had sent me after I got back to the academy. Nobody else.

"Have fun," Eddie said.

"I will," I replied. He gave a half-hearted wave and ambled in the direction of the rest of campus. Steeling myself for almost anything, I walked into the giant room, overcome by memories. Tons of memories, most of them good and sweet, flooded me and after two steps in, I strongly considered turning back around and telling Alberta I forgot. But this was so I could have a fighting chance against Dimitri when he came to kill me. I knew he'd be practicing and training on his own after our multi-encounter in Russia.

I dropped my bag on the floor and threw the notebook next to it. The sounds echoed around the walls of the empty, dim-lit gym. The ceiling was a good twenty feet high, and only a small corner of the lights overhead were on. The only other light coming in was from the windows in the doors, the setting sun not giving much light.

Sitting in the middle of the gym, I started stretching. Each new stretch was a new memory of Dimitri. I had found that since I had seen him in the flesh, full Strigoi, a part of me had moved on, and memories of him weren't so heart-wrenching.

I was bent over, my nose nearly touching the floor as I tried to stretch my right hamstring as far as possible, when the polished wood floor suddenly seemed brighter.

"I see you two weren't messing around in here," I heard a voice say, and I looked up to see Alberta leaning against the doorway. Her right hand dropped from the light switch panel.

I sat up as she walked over to me, her usual guardian attire looking crisp and clean.

"How-" I started to say, but Alberta just shook her head.

"It was his trademark, so to speak. Curling the leg that wasn't being stretched around the back of his body. He would do this thing where if he were stretching his left leg, his left arm would be behind his back and he'd be reaching with his right arm."

I just gaped.

"Guardian Belikov and I lived in neighboring towns. Our towns were carbon copies, minus the inhabitants, town name, and street names. We ended up going to the same academy and I was student-teaching the middle campus in my senior year when he was starting there. He started that odd stretching habit in about November. Don't know where it came from." Alberta sat down in front of me. She looked at me carefully.

"You're only thirty?" I asked softly, digesting the new Dimitri information. I had never seen him doing any stretching, save our first practice. It was almost a year ago, and a lot had happened in between then and now.

Alberta nodded. "Stress makes a person age much more than she should."

"Sorry," I offered, switching legs that I was stretching.

"Don't be. My fault for taking on a high-ranking job at the only school in the world that has new issues and problems nearly every other hour."

I smirked towards the floor at her sarcasm. What she said made me wonder what had happened when Lissa and I were on the run. I guess being in charge of tracking us down was stressful enough.

"What were you two working on before things...went crazy?" Alberta asked, and I saw her shadow stand up.

"Staking dummies," I said. I stood up and nearly met her eye for eye. "I think. It's been a while."

"Having heard about your adventures in Russia from those over at the Royal Court, I want to see what you've got, Hathaway," Alberta said forcefully, back in full guardian captain mode. "Let's go."

The next hour was torture. Despite having killed lots of Strigoi, Alberta was _intense_. I knew she expected a lot from me having trained with Dimitri for over half a school year and then killing countless Strigoi in a foreign country. We would have gone an hour and a half, the block of time she had told me she had set aside for this, but she let me go with a half an hour to go.

"You need a shower."

That was all she said when she ended our session. The entire hour consisted of me doing things and her taking notes.

"We'll start getting into actual training tomorrow. This afternoon will be running. Guardian Belikov had told me how much you complained about it, and I'd like to see how much your complaining was worth." Alberta looked at one of the sheets on her clipboard. I straightened up and slung my bag over my shoulder. My black tank-top stuck to my body.

"Great," I said, swallowing little saliva was in my mouth.

"I'll see you later, Hathaway," Alberta said, and waved a hand at me. I assumed it was her dismissing me, and I left the gym. I pushed the door open and was greeted by fairly warm air. I stumbled over to the grass by the door, threw my bag and notebook down, grabbed two water bottles out of my bag, and dumped them over my head, enjoying the cold water running over me.

I dropped down beside my stuff and sighed. I was pretty sure I had shown Alberta all I was capable of, and I was having a slight rush about that fact. Remembering my notes for Dimitri, I reached over and grabbed my notebook. It was a nondescript, black notebook I had bought in the airport in Missoula. I had meant to document my trip on finding and killing Dimitri, but as soon as I had put it in my carry-on after buying it, I promptly forgot about it. Ibrahim had apparently managed to get someone to find and send my stuff I had left at Tamara's in Novosibirsk to him, and then in turn, to me through Janine.

I pulled the pen out of the spiraling and flipped to the first page. I hadn't looked in it, and trying to comprehend the Russian writing on in that goddamned familiar handwriting, a part of me realized I should have. Much, more sooner.

The first quarter or so of the notebook was filled up. Somehow, Dimitri had gotten a hold of it, and decided to share his deepest, darkest secrets with the blank, lined pages. In Russian. I flipped to where it ended, and the last few sentences were in English.

_As much as it pains me and the now cold heart that still loves her, she must be killed. She will be going back to the school. Two and a half months until graduation. That may be too much time. She may find Robert. I cannot allow this._

The words chilled me. I had no way of knowing if he wrote this before or after I escaped. If it was before, it meant I had pissed him off about being hesitant with turning into a Strigoi. If it was after, it meant that whoever Ibrahim had enlisted had to somehow get around Dimitri. The enlistee was probably dead. Dimitri as a fresh Strigoi killed three experienced Strigoi at the same time.

I drew a line under Dimitri's words and wrote my own.

_Alberta is tough. Will work someone to death. Very business-like. Most definitely will take some time getting used to it. Especially after my former mentor was *in love* with me._

Happy with what I wrote, I dated it and closed the notebook, shoving the pen back in the spiraling.

I pushed Dimitri's words to the back of my mind as I walked to breakfast. There were more important things to worry about at the moment.

Like what Adrian had written in his essay and contract, not to mention what he had confessed to his video camera.

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**So how many people would read a story about Janine? Like, her in school/right after she gets out. Around that time period. Because I've got a story idea...**


	4. Chapter 3

**So, for those of you who pointed it out, I did go look up Sprit Bound....Only, despite it being _Amazon_, it's under Editorial Reviews, and when you go to BP's page, you can find half of the summary under the same spot. Although at the end of BP, Rose clearly says that Dimitri was coming to kill her.**

**I'm confused, but just in case it's correct (which I'll get the chance to possibly firm up come Wednesday when I go to Richelle's event in Fairfax), I've already developed a plot twist to fix my mistake. _I_ know Dimitri's out to change her - _Rose_ doesn't know that, however. So just go with the story. ;)**

**Usual disclaimers apply.**

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I happily skipped into my novice training class later that day. Alberta had managed to get me my entire schedule from when I left, so it wasn't like I had new teachers or a class in a different time slot.

"And the legend's skipping," Benjamin, a novice I didn't really know all that well, announced. I dropped my bag against the wall and just smiled. I really had reached legendary status around here. Benjamin and some of his friends started messing around for no apparent reason, slapping each other on the back and whooping it up, like it was some bet for Benjamin to have said that.

"You guys," Eddie said, trying to gain control of the group. He had taken over Mason's spot in the class.

I stepped up next to Eddie and let out an ear-piercing whistle. The gym became deathly quiet. All eyes focused on Eddie. Mission accomplished, I patted Eddie on the back and returned to my spot on the wall.

"Um, well, thanks Rose," Eddie stammered, and then turned back to the rest of the class. After a quick deep breath, he started barking out directions about what we're going to do today. It was apparently the first day they were going to use stakes. I nearly snorted when everyone got excited about that. It was the basics - how to hold the stake, where to aim. The dummies along the wall were pushed out into the middle. There were enough for everyone to have their own.

Laughing on the inside, I took part in the class. I surpassed everyone, which got me a round of glares and awe-filled glances. They were starting to get some idea of what I had been doing, both in Russia and with Dimitri.

Class ended all too quickly for my liking, which meant I got to endure another one of Stan Alto's famous "Let the runaway share her experiences" lectures/class embarrassments.

And I was right on. As soon as I sat down in my usual seat in the back, Stan's hard-set face erupted into a scheming grin.

"Miss Hathaway. So nice of you to join us. Again," Stan added for emphasis, and I scowled back at him. The class tittered.

"Would you like to do what you did last time? Tell us what you did?"

I stood up and let out a breath of air. I could always end up just telling them about the rogue dhampirs.

"I spent some time with a group of rogue dhampirs in a place that was heavily filled with Strigoi," I said loudly, hoping that a facade of being confident about my experiences was evident. I swallowed a sob back down my throat. I was finding myself getting a little emotional about remembering Novosibirsk and Dennis. Dennis. Strangely, I missed him and his group and their wild, uncontrolled killing tactics.

"Care to elaborate?" Stan asked, sitting on the front edge of his desk. His arms were folded over his chest. I knew some sick, twisted part of him liked seeing me like this.

"Not really, no," I said, copying his movements.

"Well, could you tell us where you were?"

"A big city." Narrowly avoided that one.

Stan raised an eyebrow in response.

"A big city not in the US," I clarified, trying to answer the question as detailed and indirectly as possible.

"Interesting. Who were you with?"

"Unmarked dhampirs I met."

"And what tactics did you use when you went about killing those Strigoi?"

"You realize that I don't have to tell you anything?" I threw back at him. This was starting to get childish.

"Fine then. But it won't be such a wonderful learning experience for your classmates. Your loss not being in the spotlight."

It was amazing that after the attack and showing that I wasn't exactly incapable in fighting Strigoi, our sworn enemy, Stan Alto still treated me like I was an immature, sarcastic teenager. The only part of that old description that was still relevant was the sarcastic part.

The day wore on with side glances, whispers as I walked past, and autograph requests.

Seriously. People were asking me to sign their stuff. One freshman even asked me to sign their shoe.

It was kind of shocking at first; it grew to be flattering and then annoying. When I went to the gym for my afternoon session with Alberta, my arm was hurting from signing so many things.

"I've heard you become quite the celebrity," Alberta noted as we walked to the middle campus. They had recently put in a 1/4 mile track for the kids in P.E. to go running on somewhere smooth and consistent.

"If I see another Sharpie or notebook, I swear, I will scream," I admitted, shaking off the last of my annoyance.

"You can scream while you run," Alberta said as the track came into view. "Five miles. That's twenty times around. And I'm not just looking for speed. Formation and technique go a long way to improving your speed. Get going, Hathaway." Alberta's nose was already digging a hole in her clipboard.

I jogged the hundred feet to the track, and then as soon as my feet hit the fresh pavement, I took off. It reminded me of the running I did after I escaped Galina's intricate mazes. Going endlessly in one direction, until the end suddenly appeared. I choked back another sob as I kept running.

Breathing heavily, I focused on the technicalities of running. Foot placement, keep most of the weight centered and even throughout the body, only letting the balls of my feet touch the ground. Each neat stride was a little bit of a sprint forward.

I kept those thoughts running through my head as I finished the last three miles I had to run.

I walked to the grassy center and sat down, interlacing my fingers behind my head to open my lungs up a little more.

"Here," Alberta said, walking up behind me. I turned around and accepted the water bottle, smiling at my mother, who had appeared while I was running.

The water rushed past my lips, and their heads dived together, discussing something. I had a sneaking suspicion that it was about the five miles that I just ran.

When I was finished with the water, Alberta started in on while I was good and everything I did was good, I could be even better. Half of me was outraged that I needed work. The other, sensible half of me said that Dimitri - regular, dhampir Dimitri - would say the same thing and that needed I to work with Alberta to make dhampir Dimitri proud. The fallen part of Dimitri. Not his current self.

"Are you even listening?" Alberta demanded. I'd gotten lost in thought about how I was feeling about Alberta's lecture.

"I am now," I said, looking her straight in the eye. I saw Janine shake her head off to the side.

"Pay more attention. Especially when I'm telling you that you can leave," Alberta said, and she started walking toward the upper campus. Sighing on the inside, I grabbed my bag, flipped to the page I made my notes from this morning on, and started writing as I walked back to my dorm room. I felt my mother come up beside me as I was scribbling furiously.

Janine spoke when I closed the notebook.

"Guardian Petrov wants me to take over her sessions with you." I snuck a side glance at her. Damn. She was too good with keeping her emotions in check.

"And?" I prompted. "Why?"

"Too much paperwork for her to do and figure out what she should do with you. It's difficult to know what to let you do; there's very little that you need to learn. You surpass many experienced guardians. Alberta seems to think that I would have trouble keeping up with you in a fight."

That was big. The great Janine Hathaway telling me, her daughter and junior by many years, that I would win a fight against her.

"Most of what she plans on doing is just perfecting techniques and working on the very minor details," Janine continued. She stared ahead. "It'll be more of 'move your right foot two inches' than anything else. I'm not good with that kind of thing."

"But Alberta thinks I'll do better with someone related to me," I finished. My mother looked at me and raised an eyebrow. Now I knew that it was in my DNA. Why could everyone besides me raise just one eyebrow?

"Exactly." Her voice was cautious.

"Basic psychology," I admitted. I had taken a psychology introduction class in my junior year when I was on the run at one of the high schools I was in. "And looking back, I could see Dimitri worked me harder as the year went on...." I trailed off at the end. My throat constricted and I grew a sudden fascination with the trees around us.

"It must be hard." She touched my arm briefly. She was talking to me like she had when Mason died. Calm, soft, like I was a fragile piece of expensive glass.

"You have no idea," I agreed. I knew that all of my teachers, my mother included as she was related, must have been told to some extent that Dimitri and I were closer than the basic student-teacher relationship we were supposed to have. I had noticed that teachers would excuse me from projects I had more than enough time to finish and ask me how I was feeling. All with the exception of Stan Alto. Bastard.

We didn't talk after that. It wasn't stony silence, but it definitely wasn't the comforting silence Dimitri and I had shared. When we got to the quad, we muttered good byes to each others and went our seperate ways. Exhausted, I took my second shower of the day and changed into comfortable sweatpants and a thin, but warm sweatshirt. I crawled onto my bed and sniffed the sweatshirt. There was the faintest hint of Dimitri's scent on it. My eyes brimmed with tears. When I looked at Adrian's stuff on my bedside table, the dam that I had precariously built all day fell.

It was in that moment did I realize just how much I missed Dimitri being a dhampir and here at St. Vladimir's Academy.

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**Review!**

**If you haven't noticed, Rose's way of dealing with Dimitri being a Strigoi and coming after her is to keep thinking of him - keep that image of him as a dhampir alive. It tricks a part of Rose that he's not really gone, that he's here and if you go to his room, all his stuff will be there. He's off somewhere playing security guard somewhere on campus.**


	5. Chapter 4

**The info I got from Richelle? Yesh, I have it. I talked to her and got it straight from her mouth. I almost wish I had videotaped it.**

**According to Richelle, _no official synopsis_ for Spirit Bound has been released. So anything you look up, especially Amazon, is false. She even told me that she was going to contact her publisher because she didn't like that they had put up a synopsis for Spirit Bound and that it wasn't even correct.**

**Hope that clears any confusion up. So I can continue on with my plot the way I planned it.**

**Also, my disclaimer for being sick and this not being up to par in TWBAR is also included here.**

**Usual disclaimers apply.**

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The week passed by slowly. I got several more letters from Dimitri. They were each as creepy as the next. The postage were all still German, so I got the impression he had decided to become stationery.

Janine sat in during more sessions with Alberta. And my mother was right - it was all about perfection now. Alberta's motto was slowly becoming, "A little more power." Apparently while I was powerful and very good at the whole killing Strigoi bit, I still had room for improvement.

I still got weird looks and people were almost done whispering about me as I passed by, but I still held onto my legendary status without any work. Meals were the worst, and I managed to silence whole tables as I walked past. The autograph requests were gone, with the exception of a random object here and there. Somebody even asked me to sign their comforter. I was late for class because they dragged me to their room and showed me just where to sign. It was hysterical for my classmates to hear my excuse.

The hole I was feeling with Dimitri's being a dhampir was steadily growing every day. On Thursday, I actually broke down crying in my training class. The memory of Dimitri telling me to stop staking the dummy in any old place near the heart came ripping through my heart. I got out of going to class for the rest of the morning. Stan had a great time mocking me on Friday.

It was Saturday when Dimitri's informant slipped. I knew they must have been some kind of informant because a tree branch shook as I walked by on my way to breakfast. Only an unoriginal informant would do something as cliched as watch things from a tree branch.

Sensing danger, I listened until I heard feet hit the ground, and took off after the escapee. I never found them - they led me in a giant circle and I came back to the original tree. After a minute of careful listening, I didn't hear anything.

Ticked off, I started walking around the tree. There were low, sturdy branches that would have made it easy for a Moroi to climb. The tree was fairly high. I climbed all the way to the top and looked around. It had a good view of the main entrance of the novice dorm, the quad, the gym, and the cafeteria. If you slid to the far left, the administrative building was easily seen.

I jumped back to the ground and circled around the tree one more time. I was about to leave, when a glimpse of something white among the grass caught my eye. I walked over and picked it up.

It was a notebook identical to the one I had. I flipped it open, and saw my name printed in my handwriting on the inside corner. A faint memory tugged on the back of my mind. I could barely recall writing my name in the notebook. I did clearly remember, however, buying the notebook in Baia and then throwing it in my bag when I decided to leave with Dennis's group.

I went through the pages and didn't see any of my writing. Somebody else was watching me and recording everythign I did. I could see where Dimitri was able to talk about what I was currently doing.

It confused me. Why would Dimitri have bought an identical notebook to the one I bought in Baia - how exactly he did that was another question I had - and why would his informant write down my actions in my notebook, which he clearly stole. It made me wonder what else of my things he had stolen. Had he snuck into Tamara's apartment - or worse, had he hurt them to get my things? Killed them, even?

Questions flitted through my mind as I walked to breakfast. Instead of eating and talking with my friends, I poured over the notebook. Christian was about to ask me what I was reading when I barely caught Adrian telling them to leave me alone.

A little red flag went up in the back of my mind. I still hadn't gone through any of the things Adrian had given me. But any thoughts about a future boyfriend were pushed away as I kept reading through the notebook.

Obviously, there were the notations of my actions. Whoever the informant was had to be a Moroi - they referenced conversations about me with last names that were all Moroi.

In the margins was a different handwriting. It was scrawled, and I could barely read it. It was all thoughts and feelings and reflections on what the original writer had written.

It was creepier than Dimitri's letters. In his letters, it just mentioned what was going on in my life. The notebook held times, facial expression descriptions, locations, step-by-step of what I did, down to opening a door.

Upon further inspection, it occured to me that it was beyond creepy. It was beyond stalker-like. It was like Dimitri was obsessing about me through his informant.

I was able to figure this out due to the fact that the entries grew in description and size. The details went from how my arm swung back in opening a door to what my arm looked like when it swung back. What my clothes were to how they looked on my body. What my training sessions consisted of to how my body moved and what it looked like stretching and staking.

It was obviously written by a female. There were obvious hints of being jealous of me, and rarely did that tone change. Most of the time, girls were jealous of me and guys wanted to just get in my pants. It was easy to classify who the writer was.

"Excuse me," I muttered as I walked into something. Or rather, it was someone that I noticed when I dragged my head away from the notebook to look at my brick wall.

"Sydney!" I exclaimed, and threw my arms around her, the notebook fluttering to the ground. I was strangely excited to see her.

"Rose!" She cried back, except it was full of sarcasm. She barely returned the hug, and I pulled away when I felt her body resemble a wooden plank.

"Sorry about that," I said, picking up the fallen notebook. We were in the middle of changing classes for the last period of the day, and a lot of my classmates had stopped to watch the exchange.

"It's fine," Sydney said stiffly. "Do you know where the guest housing is?"

I spotted Adrian sneaking around the corner, a flash of silver letting me know he was on his way to drink himself into a stupor.

"Adrian!" I shouted down the hall. The crowd parted to let Adrian, who was roughly shoving the vodka back into his jacket and grumbling, walk up to me.

"What is it that you need, little dhampir?" Adrian asked, slightly tilting his head to the left.

"Can you show Sydney to guest housing?" I asked sweetly. I could see Sydney shift feet and become uncomfortable with the present situation.

"What's in it for me?" Adrian challenged, his eyes barely flicking up and down Sydney.

"I'll finally watch your DVD," I said, the right corner of my mouth tugging upward into a smile.

"You haven't?" Adrian pretended to rub a beard in thought. "Fine." His voice got lower and I had to lean in to hear him. "But later you get to explain why there's a human, who isn't freaked out by the whole shindig going on here, being put up in guest housing."

"Have it your way," I tossed back, my voice just above a whisper.

"Name?" Adrian asked.

"Sydney," I replied.

"Just follow me, Sydney," Adrian said loud enough for Sydney to hear. He started in the direction of guest housing.

"Is he mentally sound?" Sydney whispered to me.

"He's a special case. Explanations later," I said, smiling up at Sydney. "He won't kill you. He just likes drinking and smoking and has fantasies of being my boyfriend. Don't worry."

Sydney just glared at me as she grabbed her duffel bag and backpack and took off after Adrian.

Satisfied, I kept walking to Slavic Art, my nose buried in the notebook.

It was a bit ironic. I was obsessed with writings that someone who was obsessed with me wrote. And confusing. When I attempted to explain it to Lissa in class, she just gave me a confused look.

"In theory, you're obsessed with yourself," Lissa said slowly. Someone had unearthed a laptop cart and there were enough for everyone to be partnered up. We were supposed to be researching famous slavic artists, because someone else had managed to find a Wi-Fi router and hook it up. All of our computers in our dorm rooms were the regular machines and not laptops.

"I'm obsessed with somebody else's take on me," I continued

"But it's biased because it's for someone else," Lissa added.

"Who happens to maybe be in love with me," I finished.

"Is it a different love than my love for you?" Lissa asked, batting her eyelashes.

"Of course," I said, laughing like it was a ridiculous idea.

"Miss Hathaway, Princess Dragomir, back to work." I peeked over the computer screen and looked at the teacher.

"Sorry!" I squeaked, and then pretended like I was typing furiously.

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**Review!**


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